Weeding

I love the soil under the rhododendrons, which I show by digging up the Arum italicum, which is prolific, invasive, and poisonous. Hour after hour hunched over and sifting the shoots, roots, and tubers, I become the soil. My hands become tubers, my fingers roots. My legs refuse to bend, like tree trunks. My hair is in rhododendron leaves. Soon, birds will land on my shoulders.